Wrestling Revolution
by Rose Starre
Summary: In an alternate universe where wrestling is deemed illegal, the local police force arrives at a secretive show in Miami. Arrests are made and the remaining Superstars are livid. Ready to fight for their rights, they take to the streets and start a riot.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned in this story.**

Seth Rollins perched unsteadily on the top turnbuckle. His opponent, Roman Reigns, was sprawled on the mat, awaiting the inevitable high-risk maneuver. The fans were yelling at said opponent to get up while the referee yelled the exact opposite at the soon-to-be attacker. This may sound like a typical night in the WWE, but things are a bit different backstage.

Mark Henry was standing guard at the only public entrance to the inaptly named "arena" (which, in reality, was a furtive place in downtown Miami). Sure, he wrestled from time to time, but was more often stuck with door duty. He wasn't alone this time, as he usually was, but was accompanied by Dean Ambrose. The reason was that rumors had arisen that the police had been notified of their whereabouts and were on the prowl.

Ever since the so-called "Montreal Screwjob" created a series of disputes between American and Canadian wrestling fans, the sport had been outlawed in both countries. As such, companies like the WWE and TNA were viewed with disdain by all but the most loyal fans. Years passed and crowds, though small, still made it to shows.

Of course, it was never easy. Some of the greatest talents of all time were incarcerated for their involvement with the initial rise of the profession. Even some people on the current roster were on the run from previous charges. Triple H, for example, still hadn't faced the full sentence he had received from several counts of property defilement (for which his fellow conspirator, Shawn Michaels, was still serving).

It was eighteen years after the incident that started this whole mess. On the day once referred to as Summerslam, Seth Rollins was, as previously stated, defending his title against Roman Reigns. This title had been degraded to nothing more than just that: a title. The physical belt had been abandoned long ago due to budget cuts.

Seth leaped from his perch on the turnbuckle and landed precisely as he had planned. Roman grumbled slightly under the sudden weight, but remained still. Just as the defending champion was going for the pin, things instantly began going wrong.

Dean saw them first. The men in uniform were walking directly towards the door, guns already in hand in case there was resistance. The Lunatic Fringe pointed them out to his temporary accomplice. "Warn the others," Mark whispered. "I'll see if I can hold them off for a while." Dean nodded and took off.

Almost the entire roster was in a side room, waiting to see if they would be having a match that night. They instantly jumped up when the door opened, hoping it was somebody that would inform them of the next bout. Needless to say, they were a bit disappointed when it was only Dean.

"Code Red," Dean said frantically. "We need to get out of here before the cops get to us."

The Lunatic Fringe's panic spread around the room like wildfire. The Superstars quickly prepared themselves for the desperate flight and bolted out the back door. Unsurprisingly, this was not the first time this had happened. A dark alley spread before them, promising cover for the fleeing renegades.

The situation within the arena was not so fortunate. Mark had tried to keep the officers outside, but they had threatened him with their guns. Fans scattered before the authorities, trying to remain free men. Some of them weren't so lucky. Among the unlucky were the two combatants, along with Mark and Ryback, who had been acting as referee for the night (Again, budget cuts).

As one might expect, the wrestlers were charged with worse crimes than the fans were. Jail time was nearly instantaneous. No trials or evidence were needed because of the hundreds of eyewitnesses willing to testify in order to keep their freedom.

In the meantime, those who had successfully escaped hurried out of the city limits by way of the darkened side streets. Because of their status as outlaws, they weren't welcome in any hotel so close to those who could lock them away for life. They were confined to one of two options: sleep outside under the stars or find a motel so far outside the city that the police wouldn't think to search there. The former proved to be the most likely for the night, as they had managed a longer-than-usual show and as such had no time to search for a motel.

Triple H counted the Superstars and alerted them that they had lost four that night. "You all know that this will happen from time to time," he said, sounding rather callous to those who had lost friends. "You will just have to move on and get some sleep. We move in the morning." With that, he rejoined the group of wrestlers and said no more.

Several of the Superstars were able to shrug off the incident and get to sleep rather quickly. Dean was not one of those people. He sat sullenly at the edge of the group and stared at the city lights. He was soon joined by Bo Dallas, who, coincidentally, had been assigned to the first watch of the night. "Is there something bothering you, Dean?" he asked, all the while keeping his focus on the outskirts of Miami.

"One of the four they took tonight was Roman," Dean answered, even though he wasn't entirely sure why he had said anything. "I can't just sit here and take that."

"I know how you feel," Bo sighed. "They took my dad a couple years back. I don't know if you've noticed, but Bray still isn't taking it well."

"No wonder he's such a nutcase," Dean snorted. "No offence."

"None taken," Bo replied. He tilted his head slightly and mused for a few minutes. "What would life be like without this mess?" he wondered aloud.

"We'd probably be hiding from the fans instead of the cops," Dean noted with a humorless laugh.

"Come on, don't be ridiculous," Bo said, smiling faintly. "What did we do to have to run from the fans?"

"Yeah," Dean muttered, suddenly deep in thought, "What did we do?"

A few minutes later, Dean suddenly proclaimed, "What did we do to deserve this?"

"It's kind of the risk we took choosing this profession," Bo noted. "Didn't you read your contract?"

"Well, yeah," Dean stated, "But, why should we pay for what happened almost twenty years ago?"

"Hmm… Never really thought of that," Bo responded.

"I'll put it by Trips tomorrow," Dean declared.

 _I listened to "No Apologies" by Bon Jovi and then made this happen on my computer. Yep._


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I continue to not own the characters.**

The following morning, Dean carefully approached Triple H. His caution was well founded, as the Cerebral Assassin had been even more irritable than usual since the arrest of his father-in-law, Vince McMahon, quite a few years ago. "Hey, Trips," Dean began, "I was thinking last night and…"

"You? Thinking?" Triple H snapped mockingly. "Never thought that was possible."

"You'd better watch your mouth," Dean growled. "Or else we won't even try to find ol' Vince."

Triple H looked at the Lunatic Fringe with sudden interest. "What are you getting at?" he enquired.

"No, no," Dean said, throwing his hands in the air and shaking his head. "Since you don't seem interested, I'll just keep my mouth shut."

"Please," Triple H pleaded as a last resort.

Knowing that he had the former COO's full attention, Dean explained the plan he had been refining over the course of the night. "There's just one flaw with all that," Triple H observed. "In case you've forgotten, Vince was arrested and instantly transported to Montreal for a trial there. He's still in Canada, and there's no way we'll be able to get there legally."

"Well," Dean noted with a shrug, "We'll just have to cross that bridge when we come to it. However, our first line of business is getting the four we lost last night out of prison."

Groaning, Triple H slowly shook his head. "I'm afraid I can't back you on this," he noted. "It may not be much, but I still have a show to run." He hesitated momentarily, as if he were about to say something more. "Sorry," he added curtly, walking away.

"Fine!" Dean shouted, "I'll just find somebody else to help me!" He turned away, grumbling, and almost ran into Bo. "We need to put a bell on you or something," he griped after he had gotten over the initial shock.

"Sorry," Bo apologized, "But I want to help."

"No," Dean objected. "It's too dangerous." He walked off in order to begin his search for a new accomplice

"I would understand Bray trying to keep me out of this," Bo protested, hurrying after Dean, "But you? I know what it's like to have someone close taken away. I have a vendetta against the authorities, too."

Dean stopped in his tracks and turned around. "Look, I don't think this is your kind of thing," he noted. "You're not exactly… er… prison-breaking material."

Bo froze. "I see how it is," he murmured. "You're just like everybody else. I see." With that, he darted off. (Bo Dallas used Guilt Trip. It's not very effective… (That's right; I just used a Pokémon reference.))

Sighing, Dean continued on his way and soon came across Randy Orton. "Orton," he said, "Just the man I was looking for!"

"What do you want?" Randy enquired distrustfully.

"I was thinking we could bust four guys out of prison," Dean explained.

"Are you crazy?" Randy asked.

"Yes," Dean noted. "Nobody calls me the 'Lunatic Fringe' for no reason."

"Well," Randy muttered, "At least you're honest about it."

"Are you with me or not?" Dean questioned. "This has to happen tonight, or else the rest of us will be too far off to catch up to."

It took quite a bit of convincing, but finally the Viper was on board. "Our first trick will be to convince Triple H to allow another Miami show," Dean said. "This will probably be one of the most difficult parts of this whole plan."

Dean turned out to be quite correct. Despite wanting to free Vince, Triple H truly thought that moving the show along was of higher priority. "But do we really want so many of our friends and relatives to rot in jail?" Dean enquired after a while of getting nowhere with the former COO.

"We can't help everyone," Triple H pointed out.

"But we can do enough to," Dean pressed. "What if what we can do changes how everyone views us?"

Triple H was silent for a few minutes. "That would be ideal," he muttered.

"You see?" Dean said. "What do you say, then?"

"Just one night," Triple H finally answered. "If you fail tonight, I won't be giving you any more chances."

"No problem," Dean noted proudly. "We won't fail."


End file.
